The Eighteenth Brumaire, Partner?

This piece is understandable.

Partner, it is uplifting to have a provocative discussion. I have no problem to say I agree with you. But to discuss the parameters must be there (d�j� vu? Don't fret, you started it). Not for want of academia, for order so that logic can prevail. I dropped this exercise two years ago (Re: Auto-da-f�). Of late, and I am perfectly happy, I watch, I consult the masters, and when the mood is right, I create my own shapes in optical-waves. Since you brought this one more time, I take your challenge.
Not long ago (eight months), partner, you lamented the use of quotes. You said: 'Quotes are unoriginal'. (As it were, the next day wiseman Kambarage lifted from Shakespeare. But that is not the issue.) The implication was that being original is not to quote. Nice conjecture. Take this claim as a point of departure and sweep the entire history of science:

From Euclide, Li Po, Copernicus, Galileo, Tycho Brahe to Newton, Darwin and Einstein, then you will find that knowledge is an aggregation of experiences. That to say/learn anything we have to build on past experiences. Read Joyce's 'Ulysses' and you will, probably, realise what this point has meant to knowledge. But of course, to do read Joyce one has to sit down and dedicate time. If one is busy earning a life, making dinners, reading Danielle Steele, or discussing Muslims, Joyce will seem bombastic. What is it - this bogeyman 'bombastic', by the way? When one doesn't understand a certain word? A line? A stream of thoughts?

Science, religion, literature are all aggregate quotations. Language, the every day language we use, is quotations. Nothing has ever been created from the vacuum. The mighty Shakespeare himself paid homage to the Greeks and Beowulf. The rest of us are trying to carve out some path in between and become the greatest readers. No more.

The problem, the way I see it, is that someone reads "Scientific Revolutions" and they feel equipped to discuss 'paradigms'. One reads Gibran and think they can dip into poetry. Another reads Deuteronomy and hope that they can discuss philosophy. So on and so forth. There was a friend of mine when we were little, the day he successfully executed a scissors-kick he wanted to be the team's captain! This serves as a metaphor for the scholarship we have to contend with. A daunting task. And it all boils down to ego. We come from a society that prizes appearances. "I was also there", is more important than what one contributed.

Naturally, poetry, quantum physics, relativity theory and Deuteronomy, are not measures of the intellect. But what is? Nothing, I claim. But I am convinced that it helps to learn. This takes time. Surely, one can work one's ass off to become a medical doctor, cram, bribe, sleep one's way to the certificate. Robots can be programmed, more or less, to do the same. Try to programme a Joyce. Sturm und drang? Re-read the paragraph.

That is why in this Forum we have the materials we have today. Some of our 'out'tellectuals (brother Tosh loved this twist of words. But this, too, is not the issue) just struggled their ways through the grindmills of the united republic, weathering corporal punishment, tribalism, sexism, intellectual constipation, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, to come to this level. The icing is the position one has today which comes with the privilege of the 'Internet' (and her sister 'Tanzanet'). The real world is different though, there are things you simply have to take in by genuine interest. No short cuts. No exams. Curiosity may be. Allow this person into a discourse. Aaadaabaadaaa JumaLadaFundiCherehaniKalalaKonaNje. It was not in the curriculum. And if he doesn't understand she resents the issue and repress curiosity: "Ah, that, that is pomposity! Pass the vacancy sheet, please!"

This reminds me. Every time there is a discussion with religious undertones there is a fellow who brings up the Gerezani Chagga youths who - 'wanashusha injini kishenzi (sic!)'. That is his fetish. "Chagga youths wanashusha injini!" It satisfies him. Why deny him his passion? Rest in Peace. It explains all the successes of Chagga (if you call this success. This, too, is not the issue). Now, what can you discuss with such a dimwit? But I also know that there is more than one way to go; and one of the ways would be to take him on the path of derision (ultimately, I will be accused of being corrosive). But the guy is a fool. A blithering fool. Trying to be clever and not being so smart. What if everybody made the same statements? Bumbo klaat! An endorsement of a cut-rate academe.

That said, take an unopened page of, say fifteen 'TANZANET' messages. If the initial message said 'Shufwa Witiri' then a prolongation of the title would follow. Maybe all are interested in the issue, you may argue. I accept. But open the messages and the following is likely to be the case:

         "In my humble opinion, I agree with Shufwa Witiri." Karugaba PhD.
         "Shufwa Witiri, in my humble opinion I agree with." Bombo, MA.
         "I agree with Witiri Shufwa, in my humble opinion." Ms Spiel D.M.
         "Witiri Shufwa I agree with, in my humble opinion." Dr Yoyopopo

Everybody is just echoing like a bongo drum without adding anything to the content of the discussion. Intellectuals? Not only scary, it is depressing. The same jokers who think a word such as 'brisk' is bombast (?) don the claim that they are the illuminati of the republic! And where are their degrees? Framed in the sitting rooms so that the world should see!

This posturing normally brings out the 'odd corrosive' aspect in me. I can tolerate the 'dumbing' of individuals and useless airs, but I have a problem to accept academic swagger. From fools at that! That is right. Those who read (figuratively) only what is in the curriculum and leads to a job, and/or money are not intellectuals as they would want you to believe. (Careful here, we are drifing into titles).

Then there are the 'simian academes'. These have read a thing or two. And managed to get the whole point messed up. The mode of operation is 'roadmaps' as taught in a classroom in Missouri. Let us take a hypothetical issue. Crime. Their debate unfolds like this:

         1. We have to find out why there is crime.
         2. What are the motivation to commit a crime?
         3. What areas should we explore?
         4. Has the society done sufficient research?
         5. Mother was a rolling stone?

Frankly speaking! Simian scholarship expounds what was read without an analytical mind (what is 'analytical'?), and it lies in the North American circuit. I suppose the literature is "How to Make Friends and Avoid Enemies". "Learn Philosophy in a Day". That kind of stuff. They, too, are difficult to converse with because they have built scaffolds round what they know and how to know it.

It doesn't matter. This 'illuminated' person also found it interesting to have those exotic creatures called 'Muslims' for friends. She had many of them, in Morogoro, Mbeya and God knows where. Really? What was the lesson? As long as I say I have 'Muslim' friends it absolves me from any ill will against 'Muslims'. No sweat. I can buy from the Jews' shops and gas them. Me - a bigot? You are joking! Really? We are so enlightened we have 'Muslims' as friends? Change the word 'Muslims' in this paragraph with 'Black' and you will feel the sting.

There is rarely a discussion here. This is murder of the mind. Let be honest. This thing has become a feathered-nest of false bonhomie, and behind the scene intrigues with nothing more than to cement prejudices, gossip, hatred, ignorance and envy. Or all of those together. Alliances are formed (and broken when one finds that it is silly anyway) to massage egos. From these postures, issues are scaled in a camaraderie basis. Because we belong to the same alliance there is a tacit agreement (or understanding) that we shall never criticise one another. What our partners say will always be correct. And 'we' know what is best. Talk about bovine shows.

There is a long way to go when certificates are part of the furniture. Or when academic titles define the weight of a person's character. Do I always sound melancholic? It is my duty - to my mind, if anything - to make unpleasant comments. I am not out to make friends. May be we should be humble and go back to learn more. If we don't understand something we can admit and still preserve our dignities. We should refrain from the temptation to touch the keyboard if we don't have something to 'say'. Learning is a lifelong process that is why it is easy to comment on the dialectics of 'ngono' because it is there already. Lift a skirt and plunge in. To create, on the other hand, is a bit tricky. Yet to be original is not to read one book and think that one has the world opened before them.

Slotting people into 'pigeonholes' kills thinking. ('But you called someone a dimwit? The Muse asks me. I know, I am flushing out vermin). You cannot have a balanced (what is 'balance'?) discussion if you generalise. The Haya are either promiscuous or scheming. Muslims are terrorists. Chagga are successful. But in the deepest of the Haya queendoms there is a noun for womanisers and they are scorned (when are we going to vilify the 'Wasibota', by the way?). Among Muslims there are words for terrorists - there is no love for them. In Marangu there are, certainly, some most downtrodden of souls - tell them about successful Chagga. Where does this leaves us then? Irritatingly prone to categorisations when it suit us.

         It is granted to no one to traverse more than an infini-
         tesimal part of the palace. Some know only the cellars.
         We can take in some faces, some voices, some words, but,
         what we perceive is of the feeblest.

                           Borges

And who are you to tell us, we should do this we should do that? What makes you think you have a right to make lofty declarations? Why all this? If the situation is this bad why cling in? I ask the same questions. Love for the republic? I have no idea. Sadomasochist pain? Anybody's damned guess.

It is about vanity. I am vain. Underneath the myth and the mask, my soul, always alone. I have to boast about my solitude and I, partner, seek to change the 'natural' way of things. Mi name is 'Spoiler', and is dem fat ladies me after. You just wait.



Hovedside